


Sun-Kissed

by starlitcities



Series: Hajime and Tooru [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adulthood, Childhood, Falling In Love, M/M, Sequel, Soulmates, iwaoi - Freeform, lots of star analogies again, these two are dorks that hurt my heart so please love this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitcities/pseuds/starlitcities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Iwaizumi,” he starts, and he's already too late when the brunet's expression changes, “Hajime.”</p><p>His eyes are the size of saucers, hands splayed and pressed tight against the chipped and dented wood of the table. “Hajime,” he repeats, and he repeats it again. “Like...like the constellation?!”</p><p>How in the world would he knows something like that? “Yeah...like the constellation.”</p><p>Iwaizumi's stomach drops out when his smile stretches from ear to ear, leaning over the table to tell him his own name. “I guess it's gotta be you then... because I'm named after it's counterpart.”</p><p>“Tooru,” Iwaizumi blurts, and watches the smile fall from his face. “Oikawa Tooru, right?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun-Kissed

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally posted!!!
> 
> This is the sequel to [Star-Crossed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3609696) so if you haven't read that yet, I recommend reading it before you embark on this one.
> 
> For everyone who has read Star-Crossed, I hope you enjoy the sequel! ^-^

Iwaizumi Hajime was a feisty eight year old, full of energy and almost _never_ able to be in one place for long. The first time his mom handed him a ball—those little swirly colored ones for kids—he was out doing anything and everything with it. He then grew to have a collection of sports material in his house, and still, outside is where he spent every day of his summer.

He also liked to catch bugs and hang out by the riverbank, where he'd become covered in grass and mud, scratches and bruises that he'd just bandage up and keep going.

It happened by accident, really—at least that's what he was going to tell mom—as he scurried home through thickets, the sun setting faster than he could run. Mom's rule was to always be in the house by sundown. Iwaizumi could never understand why, but despite his aggressive nature, he was a good kid who hardly broke rules—at least, not the major ones.

It was the first time he was going to be home late, the sun having already set before he was even halfway home. _Mom's gonna kill me_ , he thinks as he tries hard to pick up speed, feeling the burn in his legs and the sharp air in his lungs. He can't quite put into words why he loves being outside, but it's something about the feeling of the air on his skin, or just like this moment, the exhilaration of just _running_.

He stops, for some reason, maybe because he's tired, or maybe he's fixated by the fact that it's dark outside and he can still...see.

He can see, underneath pale light not quite like the sun, nor warm like it either, but it's still bright, turning the leaves silver and his skin pale. He sucks in air hard, lungs clawing at oxygen from his exhausting sprint, a hand over his chest and gripped tight on his shirt because his lungs kind of hurt, but the good kind. And then he sees them.

They're cute, mysterious little lights, floating about him in patterns—one could call it dancing, maybe.

He digs for his jar out of his adventure pack—he has to have at least one of them. They are relatively easy to catch, they don't dodge him or put up a fight as he settles one, two, three of them in a jar. Like his own little lantern. “What are you?” He asks to himself, and he looks around and up.

Whatever thought he might have had is gone as he passes through the thickets and into the clearing, where he can faintly see the outlines of his house just across the field, because he looks up, and suddenly he's awestruck, and a little baffled that his mom always made him come early.

How could she not let him see something like this?

The little lantern bugs floating about his jar, dusting his skin in faint gold, contrast to the silvery light above him made from little diamonds surrounding the moon.

He doesn't have words for any of it, only feelings, familiarity being one of them.

He wants to stay longer, but he remembers curfew, and he takes off running again, tripping a couple of times because he can't help but look up at the dark blue sky, and he feels weird, because it feels like home, even if it's so far away.

 

* * *

 

His mom tells him about the lantern bugs—apparently they're called fireflies. She also tells him about the stars, and when she realizes just how fascinated he is by the night sky, she extends his curfew to stay out past sundown, but only if he stays close to the house.

And Iwaizumi uses every last second of it, lying out and staring skyward, counting them, naming them in his head, talking to little fireflies that land on his skin about them. There's one, two constellations in particular that he likes the most. He traces them first and last each night he lies out underneath the stars, both with a name on his lips. He names the first one after himself, because why not? The second one, he thinks about it long and hard.

Well, not as long as he thought he would, because the name of it just springs from his lips and sounds perfect, so much that he even smiles at the new name he's given to one of his favorite clusters of stars. “Tooru,” he says.

“Yeah, Tooru's good, right?” He asks one of the tiny fireflies resting on his kneecap.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi is seventeen and has just started college. The one thing looming over his head is his indecision of a major—studying stars seems so nice but math is a bitch of a subject. He's not too worried about figuring it all out as a first year, he's a little bit more worried about something else.

Dreams are strange things, because some people call them prophetic, and others say they're full of unfulfilled desires.

Iwaizumi is on the fence of whether he should seek help or not. Dreaming about someone you've never met has to be some kind of sign that he snapped somewhere in his life. He sat in his room and ran a check through each birthday, not able to come up with a darn thing.

The first time Iwaizumi had a dream, he was sitting on a bed made of stars, tossing little suns back and forth at each other and talking about all the things they wanted to do if they were human.

He couldn't explain it, not to anyone without sounding crazy. He just opted to deal with it himself—everyone would probably just stick him on meds and call him insane anyway.

He can't remember when the dreams started, but they've been slowly getting more and more detailed, from conversations to feelings and more. He does know, whoever this person is, is a guy. And whoever this guy is, is _beautiful_.

He's got gentle eyes, large and round, set above a button nose and a smile that could kill. All Iwaizumi has to do is close his eyes and he can see him perfectly, his messy brown hair, curls and cowlicks tousled atop and across his forehead, pearly white grin; he can hear him, laughter light and loud. What freaks him out even more is that he's got this name in his head, the same name he gave to a set of stars in the sky. He was even more freaked out that all the textbooks and websites said the constellation's _actual_ name was the one he gave it.

The amount of times Iwaizumi has caught himself spacing out in class or back at his shabby apartment about him is probably unhealthy, but he can't help himself. And some part of him doesn't want to suddenly forget this face in his head.

So it's some sort of frightening stroke of luck, or fate—whichever you prefer to believe in—that he happens to run into a face so similar he would have thought he was dreaming. Iwaizumi sits alone in a booth, half eaten sandwich on his left and three stacked text books to his right. He'd planned to get some studying done for an upcoming exam, but all he can think about right now is how he really is losing it, because the guy he's been dreaming about progressively for _years_ is sitting ten feet from him.

And now he's caught him looking.

Their eyes lock and Iwaizumi forgets that he has lungs. His imagination should be ashamed at how terrible a job it had done at capturing the beauty of the real thing. He wants to—no, he doesn't want to look away, he should because it's the right thing to do. He only manages to break eye contact with a beautifully warm gaze because the beauty across the way suddenly has a hand in his shoulder, shaking him for attention.

Iwaizumi uses that opportunity to look away. He glares hard into his textbook and scribbles notes down onto a notecard, mindlessly—he isn't absorbing a single word his hand loops in those lines because all he can think about is where he's seen that face before and why it's such a strong image in his head.

He crams another bite of his sandwich into his cheek forces himself to remember how the fundamentals of being human work. Chew, chew, swallow, breathe. Chew, chew--

“Er...achem.”

Iwaizumi looks up, cheek still somewhat full of smoked turkey and swiss as the deity of a brunet stands not twenty, but two feet from him. That last swallow of his food goes down rough and he winces, clearing his throat before he attempts forming some form of response.

“Something you need?” He asks, and he's not sure if he sounds like an asshole, or a really eager asshole.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, but...have we...” He pauses, eyes searching Iwaizumi's face for a brief moment before he smiles, bashfully. God damn it, even his smile is better in person. “Have we met before?”

Iwaizumi isn't sure how long he was silent for, and he can't tell what kind of expression he carries on his face, but it must have been something negative, because the brunet is already backtracking nervously. “Sorry I uhm—you just look, _really_ familiar.”

“Well? You got a name for who you think I look like?”

“A few come to mind.” Iwaizumi idly notices that this familiar stranger has taken the seat across from him, folding and unfolding his arms, twiddling his fingers together like he's not sure where else to put them. “Do I look familiar to you?”

Iwaizumi is so close to shouting “YES” because the truth is easy to slip when this beauty in front of him smiles the way he does. He feels his heart beat hard against his chest plate, looking away from soft brown eyes to his unfinished—and never going to be—stack of note cards.

“K-kind of.”

“Oh? So we have met before?”

“No, I know for a _fact_ I've never met you. You just...look familiar. Maybe it's one of those faces.”

He frowns, lips pushing out into a pout; clearly he didn't like being called ordinary. But the expression he makes causes Iwaizumi's jaw to drop a bit. Not only was it the cutest thing he'd probably seen, outside of the stray cat he adopted, but he knows he's seen that face before. He's positive about it now.

“How rude,” he mumbles, and he sits up straight, his pout playful and his glare even more so.

“So, the names?”

“Do you have any?”

“What?”

“Names,” the brunet asks, tilting his head, “do you have any names for me?”

Iwaizumi sets his lemonade down, both of them giving it a slight glance as the once full glass is now empty in a span of thirty seconds. Iwaizumi swipes his hands along his jeans and leans against the back of the booth. “Are you serious about this, or are you just flirting with me?”

“One could say both.”

Iwaizumi feels the tips of his ears burning. He rakes a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh, thanking the waitress as she breaks the tension by cleaning away his finished meal. “And if you don't know me?”

“I want to know you. So tell me your name!” The brunet flashes Iwaizumi another one of those knee weakening smiles,

Iwaizumi hesitates; he's not sure why. Maybe because of the slight possibility that this would all go extremely wrong, and it would turn it that he might just in fact be insane, and that this all too familiar face just happens to be _one of those faces._

“Iwaizumi,” he starts, and he's already too late when the brunet's expression changes, “Hajime.”

His eyes are the size of saucers, hands splayed and pressed tight against the chipped and dented wood of the table. “Hajime,” he repeats, and he repeats it again. “Like...like the constellation?!”

How in the world would he knows something like that? “Yeah...like the constellation.”

Iwaizumi's stomach drops out when his smile stretches from ear to ear, leaning over the table to tell him his own name. “I guess it's gotta be you then... because I'm named after its counterpart.”

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi blurts, and watches the smile fall from his face. “Oikawa Tooru, right?”

He asks, but he already knows it's right, because Oikawa's smile has disappeared, and it's replaced with eyes wide once more, only this time he's truly freaked out, because he probably hadn't expected Iwaizumi to come back with his full name.

They're both silent for what feels like a century, the sudden busy noise of the cafe drowned out and nothing in between them save some study materials and a refilled glass of lemonade.

Oikawa breaks eye contact first and draws the condensation from the glass onto the table. “We should...we should go somewhere less crowded.”

If it weren't for the fact that he looks a bit pale, and that they're sitting in a cafe full of college students versus a bar, Iwaizumi might have been okay to assume Oikawa was flirting, and only flirting.

He nods in agreement, packing up his things rather quickly and shoveling them into his book bag. “Yeah, okay.”

 

* * *

 

The start of their conversation was a bit awkward, neither of them knowing where to begin until Oikawa finally just blurted out that he'd been dreaming about Iwaizumi for some time, and he was plenty positive he'd never met him before, only it felt like he knew him so well.

He didn't need Iwaizumi to respond to know he felt the same exact way.

They guessed trivial things, things that maybe if someone had great intuition and insight they could guess, but still, it was something. Like how Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa's favorite was milk bread, and Oikawa was already informed that Iwaizumi's favorite sport was volleyball, and they both loved to watch the stars and could name almost every constellation around them.

Iwaizumi seemed to know a bit more about Oikawa, like his favorite time of day, or the kind of books he liked to read, or the feeling he got in his chest whenever he saw fireworks. He knew that Oikawa liked to take walks by the beach, and that he wanted to go skydiving, take a hot air balloon to Paris, and learn three languages.

Neither of them could fully explain it all, but then, they were still pretty weirded out over this _I feel like I've known you forever_ sort of ordeal. They spent almost every moment together after that, meeting up in between classes, staying over at one another's apartments until they were _almost_ too tired to go home. They talked about everything, from their childhood up until now, fascinated by one another and the simple fact that it felt so natural and comfortable to be with each other.

They both felt like a void had been filled, almost, partially, something their entire lives they couldn't get a hold on until now.

“I kinda wish I could fly. Then maybe I could reach the stars, you know?”

“What are you even saying,” Iwaizumi sighs, and looks up at the constellation in his name. He kind of agrees with the idea, just a bit. He realizes how late it is, and how Oikawa should probably head inside and grab his jacket. Part of him hopes that Oikawa has forgotten all about time—in the entire week or so that Iwaizumi has known him (officially), Oikawa is terrible with time.

But that's just him being greedy.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathes, eyes full of curiosity when he looks away from the sky and back at the dark brunet. Iwaizumi isn't sure why he thought of it just now, but it's just dawned on him that he's never actually touched Oikawa.

“Can I touch you?”

“Why?” Iwaizumi blurts, clenching his teeth because he really wanted to say yes, but then he wasn't sure about why he would say yes, and he didn't want to look needy or eager. So on impulse, he reacts defensively.

Oikawa uncurls his knees from his chest and sits to face Iwaizumi straight on. “I just want to _feel_ you. I don't know why that's such a big deal to me, but it is,” Oikawa scratches at his head.

“That's easy, here,” Iwaizumi holds out his hand.

Oikawa stares at it for a moment, hesitant to reach for it. “What if like...in another life or something, we knew each other?”

“That's the dumbest thing you've ever said.”

“It's possible!” Oikawa gasps, “I looked into it. It's like soulmates that get a chance in each life to be together...or something...that's so embarrassing to say,” he turns red to the tips of his ears, smoothing his thumb in circles over his knuckles. “But...it explains all about why we know so much stuff about each other. Like why I knew your name even before you told me, and same with you.”

Iwaizumi stares at him for what feels like a minute; he's heard about reincarnation before, though he didn't really believe it. At least, even if he did, there's no way the memories would stay. The brain held memories, it had nothing to do with the soul, right? But with Oikawa standing here in front of him, it shakes his reality. He's dreamt about him for years in explicit detail, so much that he even knows about the freckles emblazoned across his chest and back, looking like he was showered with stars. Iwaizumi has never even seen Oikawa without a shirt.

At least, not with his own two eyes.

“I just can't explain it in words.”

“Try to.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes; Iwaizumi really needs to learn a thing or two about finesse.

“It's like...” Oikawa swallows thickly, “I want to look at you, and see everything. Hair, skin, eyes... it's trivial. But I want more. I want to touch you, feel you breathe, listen to your heart beat, blood rushing through veins. I wanna know what you taste like, sunkissed in summer, or frost-bitten in the winter.”

Oikawa fidgets his fingers together nervously; Iwaizumi idly notices that Oikawa always does that when he's anxious. He also notices it's another thing he already knew about him.

“Tears, laughter...I wanna know how you feel. Iwa-chan... _agh_ , I don't know! I don't get it... it feels like you've been gone or something, and I finally have a shot to hold you for what feels like the first time. Is that...is that weird?”

“Yeah.”

“Mean!”

“But...I kind of get it. Sort of...a little bit,” Iwaizumi glares down to his hands in his lap, suddenly feeling anxious as well. He knows his face is probably flushed, as red as Oikawa's, because two teenagers are sitting on a balcony, stargazing, heads full of things about one another, feeling like they've been together for their whole lives, when they only just bumped into each other at a coffee shop ten days ago.

Oikawa holds his hands up, steady, eyes cautious as he extends them towards Iwaizumi. “Do you trust me?”

Iwaizumi says yes before his mind can come up with a reason to say no.

It feels like fire, and it takes everything in Iwaizumi to not jolt and jostle around, so instead he closes his eyes, drinking in the silence. He's not sure what burns more, Oikawa's fingertips against his or the heat rising in his face. As fingertips gingerly press from his temples to his jaw, dusting beneath his eyes and over lips, he sighs; it feels good, warm, like something he's been craving for ages and didn't even know it.

“Hajime,” Oikawa murmurs, and Iwaizumi snaps his eyes open, because something about his name on Oikawa's lips sounds strangely familiar. Oikawa looks almost glowing beneath moonlight, chestnut eyes heavy lidded with some fatigue and euphoria as his hands explore and roam along Iwaizumi's arm.

“Say that again.”

So he does. He says it as many times as Iwaizumi wants to hear it, even as he pushes further than the boundary he'd set for himself, marveled by why his skin feels so warm to touch, and why it makes his mind explode into the stars, but it doesn't feel this way with anyone else. It's never felt like this with anyone else.

“Hey...I think...that's enough,” Iwaizumi clears his throat, but his words go ignored, and he's glad that they do. He's actually happy that Oikawa is bold, because he looks breathtaking, and when he finally kisses him for the first time it feels like he's been yearning for this all his life.

The kiss hits them so hard it's apocalyptic, launching them both skyward into stars they constantly look at. Oikawa is unrelenting, because it just feels _so good,_ and the unexpected sigh that melts out of Iwaizumi when he swipes his tongue across his lip has him spiraling out of control.

“S-stop, my head is spinning,” Iwaizumi begs. Somewhere in their frenzy of touches and kisses and harsh breathing, he managed to find the sense to squeeze that out before he nearly dropped out of consciousness.

After what feels like forever, Iwaizumi finally asks, “did you...feel...?” Still a little drunk on bliss, he can't quite get his words together.

“It's like I've been wanting to do this forever. I almost couldn't stop.”

“Yeah.”

“I think...I think I love you, Iwa-chan. I'm pretty sure I know what love is, so...”

Iwaizumi's jaw drops because that statement feels so familiar. Like Oikawa has said it to him before. Oikawa peeks at him, obviously because he recognized the same thing. “I think...we might be soulmates or something. Think about it, our names match constellations _right_ next to each other, and we have memories about each other that—!”

Oikawa only realizes half way that Iwaizumi is crying into the palm of his hand.

Oikawa doesn't realize he's crying either, not until Iwaizumi kisses him hard, hands clawing at Oikawa because he can't get rid of his shirt fast enough, and because even though every joke at school and movie would say this is headed somewhere else, Iwaizumi just wants to touch him, feel that fire.

He rips Oikawa's shirt into some obscure corner of the balcony and holds him tight, responding to the sighs and gasps by moving hands across collarbones and his shoulders. Oikawa near melts as Iwaizumi's fingertips bring to life the skin stars across his back. Iwaizumi wants to kiss him until he ascends to the curve of the earth and floats into the stars, and he wants to love him, _god_ he wants to love him until the end of time.

It seems like forever that they've spent, just lacing fingers together, foreheads together, grasping at oxygen for their very weak lungs.

“I missed you. I know that's weird to say, but I can't think of any other way to put it,” Iwaizumi sighs, “you might be right about this soulmates thing.”

Oikawa hums in agreement. “Yeah. I finally get to feel you. Feels like I've waited an eternity for this.”

“Maybe that's why it feels like it burns,” Iwaizumi hisses gently when Oikawa's hands place themselves on the back of his neck.

“Maybe. But I'm sure of it now. Even if we're still kind of strangers.” Iwaizumi smiles from ear to ear, nuzzling against Oikawa's nose as he brings his hands over the brunet's. “I've waited a long time to see you, so I can tell you... I love you, too.”

He laughs when Oikawa becomes a mess of tears in his hands again, apologizing with a kiss to Oikawa's forehead because “Iwa-chan is a meanie for never saying it before”.

It only took a few lifetimes and a lot of convincing on Iwaizumi's part for them to have this chance, and while they don't remember everything about their past lives, they remember enough to know that they'll never let each other go. They'll make every moment count, starting by completing everything on the bucket list they keep dreaming about.

Iwaizumi still thinks he might be crazy, because it's the furthest thing from normal to dream about someone you've never met, and have them be _real_.

But he would damn sure take crazy over sane any day if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life with Tooru, who looks so beautiful, born from starlight and kissed by the sun. Iwaizumi doesn't have to reach for the heavens any longer to touch his favorite constellation. He's right here in front of him, from rosy cheeks to cowlicks, and he's never letting him go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> That's a wrap for this adventure, I hope you guys liked my two part iwaoi! I always make sequels longer I don't know what that is...
> 
> Oh golly, Iwaoi is my absolute weakness. Let me know in the comments or on my blog what you thought!
> 
> I hope you guys stay tuned for my other upcoming projects ^-^
> 
> Reach me on my tumblr [Tumblr](http://fukuchan.god.jp) or my [twitter](https://twitter.com/tendousatori)!


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